High School Fight Club
by Mad Cider
Summary: The year 1998 goes much differently this time. So differently, in fact, that it forces one student to reevaluate her life completely. Ahead, a path of total destruction, chaos, and anarchy awaits the students of class 3. When San and Izumi start their own unofficial after school club, chaos and anarchy may just be their saving grace.


Mr. Kubodera walked into class on my first day, barely acknowledged me, and class continued.

Mr. Kubodera walked into the classroom on my second day, asked me to answer one of the questions on the board, and the class continued. It wasn't any better than my first day.

Mr. Kubodera walked into class on my third day and didn't call on me again, just like the first day. I remembered that the second day, when he called on me, wasn't any better than my first day. On my third day, I realized why. It was better when he didn't call on me.

Mr. Kubodera didn't call on me on my fourth day, and that's when I figured out why I liked it better that way. I was left to my own devices. I like being the one in charge of what I'm doing.

The next few weeks went by smoothly enough. I was called on for a few more problems on the board, and I hated those days, but I only hated them for a minute. A boy named Kouichi Sakakibara showed up for class one day, and I remember his name being mentioned before, but it was never particularly important to me.

The day after Sakakibara showed up was the first day I actually noticed the girl sitting in front of me. Now, I had my friends, and I had my social group, but this girl wasn't part of it. She was just the girl that sat in front of me. Then one day, during lunch hour, she turned around and started talking to me. Warm eyes on a stern face. Blue ribbons in red hair. Her name was Izumi Akazawa.

I talked with Akazawa until the next class started, with the small exception of when my friend Kazue Satou came up from her seat nearer the back. She wanted to ask me if I was free to go to the after-school club today. Normally I don't, because I have other lessons outside of school to attend, so I declined. I always decline, and she always asks. Technically, I'm part of the same club as her, but I never show up. I'm not even sure what the club is for. After Kazue left, Akazawa smiled and started talking again. She never spoke while my friend was there.

For the next several hours, I didn't pay attention to Mr. Kubodera. I was too busy thinking about Izumi Akazawa. She had said some things that hit me, and it was getting in my brain like an infectious disease. I didn't even fully grasp what she was saying, but I understood it well enough. She was talking about freedom. I had freedom, and I enjoyed it quite a bit, so I got the gist of it. Or at least, I thought I had freedom. But over the next few hours I thought a lot about it. In the morning I got up and went to school, and after school I would go home for my special classes, and then I would go to sleep. Breakfast before leaving in the morning, lunch at school, supper before my other classes. It began to gnaw at my mind.

The next day, I was at school and everything was different. They said it was the curse of class 3-3. Two days earlier, I would have believed them. When they tell you your class is cursed, and you go home to find your house and parents a smoldering heap, you tend to believe in these things. Of all people, they thought, I should believe. But Izumi Akazawa had taught me in one hour what Mr. Kubodera could never hope to equal. Freedom was what I was missing. I was living a wash-rinse-repeat life, and every day it was the same thing with an occasionally different name. So it began that I looked at the deaths of my parents, the loss of my home, and the looming of the curse all as the same thing. Rules being imposed upon me.

A teenaged girl who just lost her home in a fire was supposed to be taken care of. A teenaged girl whose parents had just died was supposed to be grieving. A teenaged girl whose school class was haunted by a curse was supposed to be afraid. Now everyone saw me. Mr. Kubodera asked me if I was alright. He asked me every hour. Kazue asked me where I was staying, and when I answered that I wasn't staying anywhere she asked me if I wanted to stay at her place. I didn't answer her the first few times, but when I finally did, it threw her for a loop. I asked her if she wanted to stay at my place. She stopped asking.

I just waited until the end of class that day. As everyone filtered to their own after school clubs, I headed out again. This time was different. This time, I had nowhere to go. Tragedy had befallen me, and so I turned to the only person standing at the doors with me. I asked Akazawa. I didn't ask her if I could stay at her place, and I definitely didn't ask for a shoulder to cry on. I asked if we could talk. So we went up to the roof.

We sat on the edge of the roof of the school, legs dangling several stories above the ground, and we talked. She asked me what exactly had happened, and I explained about my house and my parents. She mentioned that I didn't seem too visibly upset by it, but she didn't make it sound like that was bad. Then I started asking her about what she had said the day before.

She looked at me and said, "San, you're asking me about that freedom stuff, aren't you?"

I nodded, her words sort of floating by me just like everything else. It was then that it occurred to me I needed to be more specific. "I mean, what you said yesterday got me thinking, and I feel like you were referring to something like this in particular."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Tell me, how important was what you lost?"

As I answered, I watched students leaving the school. We'd been up here a while. I brushed my bangs back with my hand before answering. "On one hand, I lost everything. Everything I own except for what was in my school bag. I even lost my parents. But... on the other hand, it feels like none of it was mine to begin with."

She nodded, reaching into her bag. "In the end, all you really have is what you can take with you when you die, right? So none of that was really yours at all. Never was and never could have been. And as for your parents... you're their daughter. You're supposed to outlive them. Everyone's parents die some day. It might as well be sooner rather than later, otherwise you just get more and more accustomed to them always being around, and then you're completely helpless when they finally do die."

I didn't really think I liked what she said, but the more I thought about it the more I realized it made sense. More and more, it was starting to feel like my parents should have died sooner. Like she was right, and against my better judgement, I was beginning to agree with her. "So what about your parents, then? They dead?"

She came back from her bag with two small cans, smiling. I assumed they were soda, so I accepted the one she offered to me. She opened hers, ignoring the foam that bubbled out. "Yeah, they died recently too. Pretty terrible having to live on your own. Say, where did you stay last night?"

The truth? "I didn't stay anywhere. I sorta just wandered around all night. Why do you think I came to school looking like this?"

She looked me over, noting my unwashed hair, my wrinkled clothes, and my tired eyes. "Shit... you need a life."

Without thinking, I shot back at her. "I had a life. Right up until yesterday."

She stopped an inch from taking her first sip from the can. "Had? San, you've only 'had' a life if you don't have it anymore. You're still breathing, so you still have life. That said, maybe it's time for you to start over. Let's start simple. Here." She held her can out to me. "Want to start living? Drink both cans right now, and you can stay at my place from now on. And I remind you that I said 'can'. You can leave any time you want, but there's no freedom in sleeping on the street. You need a bed."

I looked at the two cans in my hands. What choice did I have? I was being offered a chance at breaking free. No horribly sad funeral to attend. No child's protective services moving in. No dealing with any of this. Or I could stay awake, wander the streets like an insomniac zombie and always wondering where my next meal would come from. I did have a choice. The choice was freedom, or slavery to a system that was bound to let me drown.

I drank the can, not even bothering to taste it before prying the other one open and drinking it down too. I almost threw up from the taste once it hit me. "Oh, God! What is that! I feel like I'm going to be sick!"

She just smiled as she watched me writhing and gagging, backing away from the edge so I wouldn't fall to my death. Eventually, I was lying on my back and staring up at the sky, and Akazawa was standing over me with a bright smile. "You're just a bit closer to true freedom, San. That was your first taste of hard alcohol."

After a few seconds of briefly hating her, I realized what Akazawa had really done. She'd shown me that I really can do things the world doesn't want me to. They don't want me to drink alcohol, but I can. God only knows what else I can do that someone doesn't want me to do. As we exited the school building, I realized we were probably the last ones there save for the last few school faculty tidying up before heading home. We were all alone, on school property, hidden from almost every point of view by bushes and trees around us. That's when she turned to me and surprised me.

"Hit me." she said.

Long story short: after much fretting and a number of false starts, she finally got me to go through with it. At first I walked away as if I couldn't go through with it, but a final rush of confidence turned me around. I walked straight up to her, and she was smiling like she was ready for a punch in the gut. I didn't stop this time, getting closer and pulling my hand back for the strike.

And I smacked her in the ear.

She fell back, grabbing at the side of her head in pain. "Oww! Fuck! You hit me in the ear?"

I stepped back, trying to apologize immediately. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

She shook her head, obviously still in pain. "No, it's okay! I told you to!" She started laughing. "Fuck, that really hurt!"

I stepped closer to see if I could help. "Are you going to be okay?"

She put her hand on my shoulder for support. "Yeah, I'm good." And then she brought her fist up into my stomach, sending me onto my side.

The rest isn't quite clear, but I do know it was more than a tussle. As I sat on the curb near the edge of town, emptying another can of Akazawa's questionably acquired drink and staring down the smoldering wrap of paper and various chemical compounds, I couldn't help but think that the old San Watanabe was dead. She may have died when I first talked to Akazawa, or maybe when my house burned down, or when we talked on the roof. That first taste of alcohol could have been what killed her, or perhaps she died in the fight. She may even have held on right up until I put this thing in my mouth. One thing I was certain of, as the two of us sat watching the last moments of sunset. Something had given me new life that day.


End file.
